


exhaustion

by nnovis



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: (no im not), Domestic Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Implied Relationship, M/M, Masturbation, Not that I blame him, Oral Sex, RP PERSONAS ONLY, and wilbur soot killed by his own father, awooga blood god after battle, blowjob, but it did, but then it just goes downhill, if i see a comment referring to what i wrote as the cc i will punt, im so sorry, no beta we die like tubbo in the festival, not the cc, slow burn because these two are fucking idiots, smh dream being horny after battle, starts fluffy, they arent dating yet lmao, this wasnt intended to end in smut, whoopsies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:00:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28666614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nnovis/pseuds/nnovis
Summary: He was tired.  Could you blame him, though?  He'd practically fought against an entire nation--and some more--by himself for thirty minutes to buy Dream enough time to blow L'Manburg down into the pits of hell.  He just wanted to rest, get his shit together, and relax alone.  Of course, Dream seemed to have other plans for that.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 611





	exhaustion

**Author's Note:**

> woo! welcome! this wasnt intended to be smut, but here we are! this fic involves hc of my thoughts on how blob man and pig man look, though dream's the only one i really describe. i love my villain blob man <3 anywhore,, the only other major hc i included was 1) techno wears a bone mask and 2) healing/regen potions work wacky and can have side effects similar to some drugs. if for some reason that bothers you, i apologize,,, skededooo
> 
> city i am so sorry if this is the way you find out i ship dnb

As soon as the door closed behind him, he let himself slowly sink down onto the floor, not even bothering to take his armor off. He was tired. His body ached. It took all of his strength to not just collapse when talking with Phil, waving the other man off as he left. And, now, he was here.

It had been more taxing than he’d thought. Well, to be fair, fighting, what, _twenty_ godsdamned people at once _and_ getting targeted by Withers all the while, that was expected to be taxing. Keeping himself alive for the entire duration of it was even harder. _Technoblade never dies._ It was something he had planned to keep true, and it shown true as he fought.

A groan leaving him, he let his head fall back onto the door behind him. A worn out hand grasped at the belt at side side--did he have any potions left? Sure, sure, he could always eat a Golden Apple, but, fuck, he didn’t think he could stomach another one of them. A potion would be the best way to go, and he didn’t have any remaining. The loops for his potions were empty and used. To be expected, really, but disappointing nonetheless. He shouldn’t even use any more of them, but the want outweighed the chances of the side effects. 

With a grunt, Techno pushed himself up, momentarily standing in place, a hand placed against the wall for support, taking a moment to stabilize himself before dragging himself forward, making his way to his chests. What did he need? Netherwart--ah, water bottle, that was right there, and a magma, _no,_ a ghast tear. That was--did he have one upstairs? Or was it downstairs? “Shit.” C’mon, there had to be a ghast tear in here, Phil couldn’t have used all of them-

“Hel-”

“Fuck!” Techno swirled around, the chest dropping closed with a loud thud, his sword brought up, prepared to defend himself. A groan left him as he saw who it was. Sheathing his sword, he sent a weary glare at Dream, he turned back around, reopening his chest. Ghast tears now. Talk to Dream later.

Of course Dream thought otherwise. “What’re you doing?” Of course he had to ask. Don’t get Techno wrong, he appreciated it, but he… He wasn’t in the mood for it right now. Though, knowing Dream, he could make Techno’s mood change in an instant. For now, though, he’d get his shit together and done.

“Regeneration potion.” Techno grunted the response, letting the chest close once again. No ghast tears up here. _Fuck._ He didn’t want to climb downstairs for a ghast tear.

“What, are we fighting again? Didn’t L’Manburg give up?”

Techno didn’t bother to give him an answer. Maybe he had some ghast tears in his Ender Chest. It wouldn’t hurt to check, right? Moving over to it, he opened it, beginning to try and look through it, searching, _please_ say that he had put -

“You still have your mask and armor on--your helmet looks worse for the wear. Before the fight, I think-”

“ _I’m not fighting anyone_.” The words were attempted to be sharp, to have an edge in them, but, as it tended to, tiredness seeped into his words. No, exhaustion. Techno was exhausted.

“Oh.” After all the talking he’d done, a simple _oh_ was all Dream had left to give? Techno almost let out a snort. What an idiot.

“I doubt a regeneration potion will do much help, then.” Dream spoke, walking closer to the other, eyes undoubtedly peering at him from behind his mask. With everything that had happened in the past few days, he couldn’t help but wonder if there was malice behind his words. Was Dream attempting to manipulate him? Get in close after all this time just--just to _use_ him? Tommy had told him--that bastard of a child, Techno had trusted him, gave him his axe, was prepared to fight everyone for him, only for Tommy to just-

“I think you need some rest.” Dream’s hand rested on his shoulder, but it wasn’t harsh, nor forceful. It was surprisingly… comforting. But Techno was fine. He didn’t--he didn’t need rest.

Techno shook his head, but he didn’t shrug off the hand. “‘m fine. I… Maybe a healing potion would work better.” The last part was mumbled to himself, and he turned, going to open the chest once again, only to be stopped by the hand now gripping onto his shoulder. “Dream, I am _not_ in the mood. Let go-”

“We both know that the potions won’t heal you in the way you want.”

Techno was silent. Potions only did so much, they both knew that, but he hated Dream for bringing it up.

“Let me help bandage you up.”

Techno should say no. Get Dream the hell out of his house.

But after all this time, it was a bit too late to say no.

“Just make it fast.”

A laugh came from Dream; something surprisingly soft compared to the chaotic laughter he’d heard from above, probably not even an hour ago when they’d destroyed L’Manburg. He wanted to be wary of it, but he couldn’t find any reason to be wary of it. Dream had been nothing but helpful to him today, and had been nothing but helpful to him since he'd come here. Sure, they'd been on opposing sides before, but Dream had had his reasons.

"Let's get that armor off of you, then." Dream's hand slipped off of his shoulder, and Techno gave a grunt in agreeance. "Mind if I help you with it?" After all this time, Dream didn’t even need to ask that question. And yet he did, every godsdamned time.

"Ya might as well." He spoke, already having begun the long process of taking off his armor. It was strange, having someone else help him with his armor, even after all the times Dream’d done it before, but, hey, it was free labor. Besides--Dream wasn't wearing his armor. Techno could beat him in a fist fight undoubtedly, tired and all, he had no doubt about it. He wasn't weak, he was just tired. Besides, it wasn’t like this was the first time he’d been armorless with Dream around him.

As to be expected, the process of taking off his armor took a while, numerous straps having to become undone. He hadn’t realized how heavy it was until he’d taken it off. _It was a relief._

“You still hang your armor in a descending order, right?” Dream questioned, holding Techno’s helmet with care. As he should, it was almost broken.

“Yeah.” Turning, he was practically dragging his feet to his couch, all but collapsing onto his couch. He trusted Dream to handle his armor with care, the other knew damn well how hard he’d worked to get the equipment. It wasn’t hard to take the equipment and put it in its proper place, it’s something Dream’s done for him before. Too many times, and Techno should really care more, but it was too late to start caring now.

With a sigh, he let his head roll back, gaze forced up at the ceiling. Closing his eyes, he let out a sigh. The soreness he felt wouldn’t go away with potions, it would linger. Who knew for how long? It was the same after every good battle, every big fight. Potions only did so much, and the more regeneration and healing potions you used, the more of a tolerance your body would build, and, with that, you ran the risk of your body becoming dependent on the potions. He’d witnessed that firsthand, and he wouldn’t be surprised if Dream had as well.

Dream.

Techno had mixed feelings about the man. No, not mixed, moreso… Denied feelings. According to practically everyone, Dream was horrible. He manipulated, he killed, and, according to them, he wanted power. The latter was funny, coming from them, from the ones that ranked high in a country--well, the ones who _had_ ranked high in a country. There was no L’Manburg, and he and Dream had made sure of that. No country could ever rise up on that crater, that hole to hell, and thank fuck for that.

That was beside the point, though. Yes, Dream had done fucked up things, but so had Techno. The only difference between the two of them was that Techno had allowed himself to get used. Not once, but twice. As much as he loved Philza, his sons had fucked him over twice over. Phil had a sort of grudge against Dream, but Techno? Techno held nothing against Dream. Maybe that was how it all began, really: meeting another who was as fucked up as him, another whose power rivaled his own. It was exhilarating at first, and clashes turned into dancing, fighting against Dream was an _art_. Something to be written, to be immortalized, and the voices enjoyed when Dream and him were pitted against each other--hell, the voices enjoyed Dream’s presence in general. Of course, he’d hear a few pipe up to kill the other, but that was nothing out of the ordinary. Some wanted him to kill Phil as well, and for both men it was easy to ignore the want of those voices.

But, of course, their relationship went on further than just rivals or acquaintances. As much as Techno would love to call their relationship just that--acquaintances--he knew it’d be wrong. Yet, he kept his mouth shut, and told himself that’s all they were. Just two people whose goals aligned and happened to know each other very well. It made things easier. The only boundaries that were set were speaking of how deep their _acquaintanceship_ went. That would be something to talk about either later or never.

And unlike other people, Dream hadn’t betrayed him the entire time they’d been acquainted. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he trusted Dream, and then some more. But, as stated, that _some more_ wasn’t to be mentioned verbally.

The feeling of the cushion sinking down next to him brought him out of his thoughts. He didn’t bother opening his eyes or moving from his position. Not yet, anyways. He was comfortable.

“How long are you planning to keep that mask on?” Leave it to Dream to bring up masks.

“Long as I want.” Which didn’t seem to be too long, as he’d already brought his head down, hands being brought up to the clasp that held the bone-made mask and undoing it, bringing it out in front of him to view it. Blood had gotten onto it, the red adorning the dirtied white, proof of what had happened. He’d have to clean it soon. “And what of you? How long are you planning to keep that mask on?” Two could play at the mask game, after all.

A laugh came from Dream--a laugh he’d grown to like--and he put his hands up in mock surrender. “A mask for a mask.” There was a tease in his words, one Techno didn’t miss, and Dream brought his hands up, taking off his own mask as well.

If Tommy hadn’t been lying, Dream had never taken off his mask in Tommy’s presence. So, seeing Dream without his mask on, there had to be some genuinity to it. Proof, almost in a way, just to show he meant it. Dream taking off his mask was showing vulnerability, Techno was no fool. That scar that ran down and over his left eye was showing his weakness, that milky eye unseeing. That favoring and overprotection of his left side was obvious in their fights, where before it had only been subtle. Dream showing his weakness to the only person who could take him on alone, that had to be some form of sincerity. And, yet.

“Where’s the worst of your remaining injuries?” There was nothing but care in Dream’s voice, no matter how desperately Techno was listening for the slightest hint of betrayal, of aversement, of--of _anything_ to either prove Dream a traitor, but there was nothing, and, really, he couldn’t decide whether or not he-

“Techno? You good?” There was concern in Dream’s voice, hand placed onto his shoulder again. Nothing but genuine worry.

He was just being antsy for no reason. Tommy--Tommy had betrayed him once before, he shouldn’t have trusted the kid. Dream had done nothing wrong to him, helped him from the start. For fuck’s sake, he saved his _life_ \--and Carl’s--and that was more than Tommy had ever done for him during the entirety of their two teamups.

He’d trusted Dream for the majority of his time in these lands, so why stop now?

“Just… Thinkin’.” A heavy sigh left him, hand being brought up, running through his hair. He’d have to redo his braid, the knots must’ve been loosened during the battle--war, really. A country taken down by three men. _Pathetic_. It was laughable, really.

“I’m not like Tommy.”

Techno sucked in a breath, unwillingly showing how Dream’s words caught him off guard. It hurt. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Tommy betraying him _hurt._ The wound was still raw, and it wasn’t something any bandages or potions could heal.

Nonetheless, he played it off with a chuckle, bringing his over to the other. “Since when could you read minds?”

A grin turned the corners of Dream’s lips upwards, the expression nothing akin to the smiling mask he always wore. “Since I got to know you well enough.” There was a weight to his words, one neither of them spoke of.

Techno turned his gaze again, letting it fall on the empty fireplace and its charred wood. He should light it up again soon, Dream wasn’t as adept to the cold as Techno was. “In my right calf, there’s a partially healed wound from an arrow. Probably from Sapnap.” Dream’s former ally and friend, but Dream doesn’t show it if the name affects him. Techno doubted it did anymore.

“You sure this isn’t a ploy to get me on my knees?” There was a tease to Dream’s words, and Techno figured he’d bite back.

“If you wanted me to make ya get on your knees, you could’ve just asked nicely an’ I might’ve agreed.”

Techno’s retort earned a laugh from Dream, the other man having gotten off the couch, looking for the wound. Techno could bandage his remaining wounds perfectly fine on his own, but situations like these had been happening often enough that he didn’t stop Dream from bandaging anymore, nor did Dream stop him on the rare chance that Techno found Dream wounded.

“Is it that easy?” Dream questioned, gaze looking up at the other, practically in between his legs as Techno looked down. He doubted it was done on accident with the way that cheeky grin played on Dream’s face.

“For you? Maybe.” It was a dangerous line he was treading, especially with the way one of Dream’s hand moved up, only a bit, but it was enough to reach his thigh.

Leaning forward, Dream’s mouth opened to reply, only to be cut off by Techno. “But then again, you did tell me I needed some rest.” It was Techno’s turn to have a smug expression showing on his face, mouth twitching in a suppressed smirk as he saw the flash of confusion that appeared on Dream’s face for a quick second, and with it, the gears churning in the dirty blond’s head, thinking of how to retort to that.

“I mean, to be fair, it’d be me doing all the work for you.” Techno had yet to brush that hand off of his thigh, so Dream let his hand move up further. Techno didn’t stop him.

“And what’ll you get out of it, huh?” Fuck, were they seriously about to do this right now? Leave it to Dream to get _horny_ after a war. The bastard probably didn’t even do much work up in the sky except for running around and resupplying, so of course _he_ wasn’t tired.

If Techno let Dream do this, he probably wouldn’t even be able to walk for a while after it considering how sore his legs already were.

“I can get myself off. Not like I haven’t done it before.” The bandages had been put aside, Dream’s other hand on his other leg, thumb rubbing circles over clothed skin, waiting for permission, for consent.

For a moment, Techno just looked down in thought, _did he really want to fucking do this right now?_ He’d just fought less than an hour ago, and whatever remaining wounds that had stopped bleeding would probably start seeping again, but with the way Dream was looking up at him…

“You best make it good.”

“Oh, I promise I will.” There was a purr in Dream’s, glimmer in his eye as his hands moved up, beginning to undo Techno’s pants. “You won’t have to lift a finger. Just let me do all the work.”

Because this is what acquaintances do. They make sure the other is doing alright, keep each other company, and manage to fit in some sex every now and then.

“I’ll hold ya to it.” Tomorrow, he’d return the favor. Assuming that Dream would stay after this.

“Good, good. I won’t let you down.” Dream had managed to bring his pants down, his boxers soon following, exposing Techno’s semi-hardened cock. In his defense, Dream had literally talked about getting him off--was he not supposed to start and get horny? Not like it mattered in the end, especially as Dream spread his legs apart, leaning in. He didn’t start by taking Techno in first, no, the bastard always had waited until Techno was hard before he started. Preferences were preferences, though, and who would Techno be to tell Dream otherwise? He was the audience, after all, and Dream the performer.

Dream brought his tongue out, licking the underside of Techno’s cock, the sudden warmth causing a shiver to run down the pinket’s spine, amongst another reason. A laugh came from the dirty blond, but he quickly focused back on the task in front of him, working on Techno’s dick until it hardened, and earning a few moans--quiet ones, only because Techno wasn’t going let Dream hear him loud just yet.

There wasn’t any warning before Dream had decided that Techno was erect enough, only the mere absence of his tongue before it was replaced by mouth. Against his own wishes, a moan escaped past Techno’s lips, to which Dream hummed, and, fuck the vibrartions felt _good_ , and Dream damn well knew it. Was this going to be some sort of game? Techno sent a glare down at the other, who only looked up at him with challenge in his eyes. Leave it to Dream to make giving a blowjob a fucking competition.

“We--we are _not_ doin’ this. I’ll fuck that pretty little face of yours if ya continue, damned if I’m tired.” The threat was growled, eyes narrowing.

The loss of Dream’s mouth around his dick--even if the other had still been working on getting it fully in his mouth--was too apparent, the loss obvious, and it almost drew a whine from Techno’s throat. _Almost._ “You say that like I wouldn’t like-”

“Shut up and _suck_.” Techno didn’t want to hear the quip, annoyed now that Dream had stopped.

A laugh came from Dream, hands being thrown up innocently. _As if._ “Yes, sir.” At least he kept his word, his lips once again placed around Techno’s dick again, slowly working his way down, tongue occasionally swirling around the pinkett's dick as he worked. Techno rewarded the other with his work, letting quiet noises escape past his lips when he deemed Dream worthy of hearing the sound. Unlike Dream, Techno wanted to retain as much power as he could in situations like these. If Dream wanted him submissive, he’d have to force him. Thankfully for Techno, the other was focused on something else right now.

Only one hand had been placed back onto Techno’s thigh, and Techno didn’t have to guess where the other one was. “Already hard?” Oh, it was unfair to taunt when Dream couldn’t give a response--obvious in the look Dream gave him--but Techno couldn’t give a shit. Especially as Dream decided now was the time to fully take in his length, the tip of his cock touching the back of Dream’s throat, a groan left him, head leaning back on the couch once again.

Dream didn’t hesitate as he began to bob his head up and down on Techno’s dick, tongue moving in just the right ways that made Techno unable to hold in his moans, eyes squeezing shut. It was unfair, how good Dream was at this, unfair at how well he knew just what to do to get Techno to moan like this. Adding in that hum, that vibration, Techno’s hips instinctually thrusted up, wanting _more_ , and a gag came from Dream. _Good_. He deserved it. Techno didn’t want any playing around, he just wanted his promised release, and he’d be holding Dream to his word of not having to lift a hand.

“ _Fuck,_ ” The swear came out as a groan as Dream went particularly lower on one bob, tip of his nose brushing against skin, and Techno’s hands grasped onto the material of the couch. Eyes opening once more, he looked down at Dream, and, _fuck_ \--gods, it was fucking hot. His cock in Dream’s mouth, _moaning_ on it as he jerked himself off. And it was those moans that were about to push Techno over the damned edge.

“If ya don’t--shit, if you don’t want cum in your fuckin’ mouth, get off.” That was good enough of a warning, one Dream didn’t care enough to heed. In fact, it seemed to be the opposite as he began to bob at a faster pace, almost seeming to gag again as the back of his throat was hit again, moaning soon after it. It was that muffled moan that drove Techno over the edge, head falling back once again as he reached his climax, a drawn out moan leaving him, shoulders heaving from his heavy breaths. Eyes closing--why the fuck had he let Dream get him like this, especially right after he’d fucking _fought_ -

“Your legs are quivering.” The statement was shaky, and as Techno opened his eyes and brought his gaze back down, he had his answer.

Dream’s face was flushed, still jerking off, hand working ministrations on himself. Still, he grinned up at Techno, lust sheening in his eyes as he spoke, “You tasted pretty fuckin’-” His sentence was cut off by his own moan, and Techno didn’t miss the way Dream’s hand on his leg tightened. If he weren’t so exhausted, he’d pull Dream up onto the couch and fuck him right then and there.

“Pretty… Prettty fuckin’ good.” Dreams breaths were becoming heavier, and a swear left his mouth. “God--’m gonna fuckin’ cum, Techno-” Was it bad, the way Techno adored the way Dream moaned out his name? Wanted to hear more of it? Wanted to see Dream like this more, eyes filled of lust because of him, sweat trickling on that freckled face of his as he screwed his eyes shut, mouth opening in a moan as he came?

That thought--of wanting _more_ of this, it scared him, but he knew damn well he couldn’t just stop now. Not after all they’d done.

“Fuck.” Dream groaned leaning forward, forehead pressing against Techno’s knee.

“Well,” Techno drawled, gaze seeping up the sight in front of him. The gods knew he’d be remembering this the next time he fucking jacked off. “You kept your word.”

There was a rasp in Dream’s laugh, and Techno decided he loved it. “I’m not one to break my word.” Moving his head, Dream looked up at Techno, and there was a glimmer in his eye that offered an answer and a promise if Techno just as much spoke of it.

Techno couldn’t hold that gaze.

“Now I’m even more tired, an’ probably fuckin’ bleedin’ again.” He huffed, complaining as if he hadn’t enjoyed it as much as Dream had, if not _more_.

“Oh, c’mon!” Dream’s laugh rang out once again, and, gods, Techno wanted to hear that laugh on a daily occurrence. But that was a part of that answer, that promise, that verbalization that would come at a later date. For now, he’d enjoy moments like these, send his taunts and complaints over at Dream, who in return only acted shocked and offended.

It was quite the game they were playing, and Techno didn’t mind it. Dancing around the question, blocking and deflecting, parrying with his own blows. One day, there’d be a victor. Today was not that day, though.

But as their quips were over, clothes put back on, an offering--a demand, really--for Dream to get his ass on the couch, Techno knew that day was undoubtedly close; inevitably it was drawing near. With Dream’s hands in his hair, rebraiding it, Techno let his eyes close and allowed his mind to drift to the subject he hadn’t let himself dwell on for quite some time.

He wouldn’t all mind giving a _yes_ to that offering.

**Author's Note:**

> woo! it's done! first work for the dnb archives. im a whore for rivals to lovers dhmu,, if you enjoyed, though, leave a comment! i love reading them :)
> 
> anywhore! again, i'll reiterate, these are the characters they portray, NOT THE CONTENT CREATORS. there's a difference, and if you dont believe me, literally just watch wilbur reacting to matpat's video where he refers to his character as "wilbur", not himself/first pov. thank you, have a wonderful day, and if you make a reference to what i wrote being cc, your comment will be deleted. thanks!


End file.
